


What You Do

by wiseio



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Claire patches Matt up, Concussions, Gen, Hurt Matt, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson Friendship, Sad Foggy, injuries, matt whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiseio/pseuds/wiseio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt gets beaten up (again), gets Claire to patch him up, and struggles to deal with Foggy's reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Do

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first attempt at a fic - I'm aiming to elongate this at some point and would love any feedback you have!

Matt woke with a gasp. His body tensed, already on high alert, before he recognised his surroundings. The familiar furniture and smell of home was a quiet relief after the split second of fear. The haze of sleep was giving way to a more disturbing disjointed sensation, as if something hadn’t quite clicked into place. Steadying himself, Matt focused on his surroundings. The apartment seemed to be intact - for once - and there were two familiar voices in the next room over. Foggy and Claire. Claire’s presence didn’t bode well for his wellbeing, so he turned his attention to his own body. Searching slowly for any breaks or cuts, Matt counted three fairly sizeable gashes across his legs and torso, a likely cracked rib, and a neatly stitched bullet wound in his shoulder. Painful beyond belief, but nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. And nothing to explain why Claire was still in the next room, why thinking hurt, and why he had no recollection of whatever fight he’d been in. _Concussion_ , Matt thought with a grimace, gently pushing himself into a seated position. He let out a muffled gasp as the movement twisted a cut that travelled from ribcage to hip.

“Matt?”  
Foggy rounded the corner, concern clear in his voice and rapid heartbeat.  
“I’m okay, Foggy”. His voice was low and raspy. He heard Claire step lightly into the room as he spoke. Disapproval seemed to emanate from her. _What’s new?_ He thought wryly.  
“Glad to see you’ve decided to rejoin the land of the living.” Her tone was sarcastic, but there was an edge to it. Something hard.  
“How long have I been out?”  
“Oh, a day or so. You know you have the best friends in the world, right? That or the stupidest. Foggy hasn’t left the flat the whole time. He’s been in my way all weekend.”  
Matt felt a rush of gratitude towards Foggy as colour crept up the lawyer’s face.  
Claire’s voice lowered. “You know one day you’re going to do some damage I can’t fix, right? Cuts, broken bones - hell, even bullet wounds! All that I can deal with. But if you don’t ease up you’ll end up with a hell of a lot worse.”  
“She’s right, Matt. I don’t want to keep seeing you like this.” Foggy’s voice was subdued. This was new - Claire gave him a lecture every time he presented her with his battered form, but Foggy had kept quiet on the subject since their fight. He must look like hell. Matt cleared his throat, dimly noticing the ache it sent through the side of his head.  
“Uh… Okay, I know this isn’t exactly going to help my case, but… What happened?”  
A disbelieving huff from Claire as he sensed her hands move up to her face. Probably massaging her temples. He didn’t blame her - he was causing good people a lot of trouble.  
She sighed. “The usual. Somehow you staggered home and called me. You were unconscious by the time I got here to stitch you up. The head wound is what’s worrying me. I’m gonna say you have a pretty severe concussion, and I’m hoping not any permanent damage. I really can’t tell without scans.” The last sentence was short and pointed. Matt grimaced. “I’m sorry. Thank you for patching me up.” _This still doesn’t add up,_ he thought. _Foggy is far too worried for a bashed head and a few bruises_. He could hear the breathing of his best friend hitch every now and then, as if he was about to speak. Or cry.

“And thank you for staying, Foggy. You didn’t have to.”  
Foggy sniffed. “I kinda did, Matt. You were - well, I-”  
“I was what?”  
Foggy shuffled nervously.  
“Foggy-”  
“You were out of it, Matt, OK? But you were... awake, kind of. And you were talking, saying all kinds of stuff. You were crying, screaming from the pain. And I- I don’t want you to do that to me ever again, okay?” Foggy’s voice was rising, almost desperate. Matt could hear the tears building in his voice just as they built in his own eyes.  
“Foggy, I’m-”  
“You’re sorry? I know you are. Fat lot of good that does if you keep going out in that mask and turning up half dead!”  
Matt sensed Claire place a calming hand on Foggy’s forearm - he was shaking with emotion.  
“We nearly took you to a hospital, Matt. But then you started saying-” Foggy broke off. “You’re bleeding again.” He said, voice low. Claire trod quickly across the room, and he felt her fingers lightly press the cut on his side. A pause, and then deft hands redressing the wound. Matt shifted slightly but made no complaint. He turned his face towards Foggy, and spoke, his voice low and earnest.  
“I don’t know what I was saying, Foggy, but you shouldn’t have had to hear it. I shouldn’t be putting you through this.”  
Foggy shrugged. “But you _are_ , Matt. It’s what you do.”  
Matt sank back into his pillows. The tears that had been threatening to spill over fell freely.  
“I know.”


End file.
